


This Night is Sparkling (Don't You Let it Go)

by TragicLove



Category: Hanson (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragicLove/pseuds/TragicLove
Summary: There was something in his eye, something that told her he’d noticed her, and it made her head spin.Or, Two Taylor's spend an awful long time pining over one another.





	This Night is Sparkling (Don't You Let it Go)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boomersoonerash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomersoonerash/gifts), [HarperJean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarperJean/gifts).



> This was heavily inspired by the only other two people I'm aware of in this fandom writing this pairing, so it's only right that I gifted it to them. I will probably never write this pairing (affectionately dubbed Taylor Squared) again, so I hope anyone interested enjoys it.

**Reputation**

Taylor never got nervous anymore, not really.

 

She was so used to this life by now, the life she’d always dreamed of as a little girl, running around in her back yard, pretending to perform to stadiums full of fans just like she was doing right now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stood backstage with her palms sweating, questioning everything from her choice of outfit to the way her hair was done. 

 

An hour ago everything had been fine. She’d been ready - anxious, really - to get on that stage and blow the minds of the people of Texas who had gathered from far and wide to see the Reputation Tour. This was the tour she was proudest of to date, she felt like she was bleeding her words on that stage every night, and this being the last night of the North American leg of the tour made it that much bigger. Now, she was standing in her dressing room by herself after asking everyone for a few minutes alone, staring in the mirror, the face of an absolute mess looking back at her.

 

It had been almost three years since she’d seen him, and she’d expected it to be three more - maybe forever - until she’d see him again. He’d made it clear that their night together was a mistake. The product of a marriage that was breaking down slowly in front of him, fueled by loneliness and a need he wasn’t having fulfilled for him at home. As far as she could tell from the little keeping up with him she’d done online, those things had fixed themselves. His marriage looked better, he seemed happy. Then why was he there?

 

Forty five minutes ago, Taylor’s manager stuck his head in the room, told her that he was there. They’d given him a VIP pass, a somehow empty seat in the front row. She’d be performing in front of him, songs that she’d written about him. It wasn’t like it was the first time, this had happened before. But, it was the first time since they’d taken it just a step too far, gone tumbling over an edge together that they never should have been standing on in the first place. 

 

She sat down on the chair placed in front of the vanity table, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d thought she had been what he wanted once. She’d thought maybe when he looked at her, he saw what she did when she looked at him. But, it was never that. She was nothing more than an overly willing participant in him stepping out on his miserable marriage. It had been so simple, once, her school girl crush. She’d do anything for it to be that easy again.

——-

**Fearless**

If you’d have asked Taylor when she was ten what she’d be doing at nineteen years old, she’d have told you that she’d be performing on stages around the world, singing her heart out to people who paid money to buy the words and melodies that she wrote straight from her heart. She’d always known that that’s who she was going to be, and then that’s who she was.

 

It was the end of September and she’d never been to Oklahoma before. The second they stepped off the bus, Taylor couldn’t stop talking about the sky. The way the clouds just looked a little bit different, the way the air hit her face. Her mom had laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulder and reminding her that she only felt that way because she knew she was sharing air with her first love.

 

So what that when Taylor was eight she was sure she’d marry a boy from this town? Who cares if she was sure that the fact that they shared a name was proof that their romance was fated, written into stone before either of them had ever been born? 

 

“Speaking of,” her manager had laughed. “He’ll be here tonight. Bringing the wife and kids.”

 

“What!?” Taylor had shrieked. “ _Taylor Hanson_ is coming to _my_ show?”

 

“Got the call this morning. You’ll greet them before the show, take some pictures with his kids. Think you can handle standing in front of your one true love?”

 

Could she ever. It had only been a couple of years since she’d taken down the posters of Taylor and his brother that had all but wallpapered her room, and she’d only done it then because her friends had started to pick on her about it. She’d started to lose track of the other Taylor, as she liked to call him, and his band shortly after, being knee deep in getting her own career off the ground, but still to this day whenever anyone asked her who her first crush was, she’d tell them with a laugh that it was the famous boy who she shared a name with. 

 

Preparing and getting ready for the show had gone by in a flash. She’d greeted the few hundred meet and greet winners, her face almost sore from smiling so much. This was the part of her job that she’d never get tired of. Even when writing got hard, even when playing seemed almost impossible, she’d never get sick of seeing all of the people who she touched through her music. She knew some musicians hated that part, got tired of it quickly, but not her. It filled Taylor with a sense of purpose that nothing else in the world really could. 

 

And then he walked into the room and Taylor could have sworn that the air got sucked right out of it. Her mouth went a little dry and she felt a smattering of goosebumps appear on her arms. She couldn’t believe she was standing in a room with him and that _he_ had come to see _her_. 

 

The woman by his side was gorgeous in that down home, take her home to mom type of way, and their two kids were adorable, all smiles and giggles. Taylor watched as he lead them all to her, his blue eyes meeting hers, a tuft of dirty blonde hair falling into his face.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Taylor,” he smiled, holding his hand out. She slipped her hand into his and shook it lightly, the heat in her cheeks spreading out across the rest of her face.

 

“You too,” she giggled, cursing herself. “Taylor.”

 

She hugged his wife, she hugged his kids. They all posed for a group picture together, Taylor not missing the heat of his hand on the small of her back. Not missing the sparkle in his eye when he told her that he just knew she was going to be huge, he was looking forward to watching it happen. 

 

He looked back at her as they walked out of the room, his little girl prattling on to her older brother about how Taylor Swift was just the coolest. 

 

She wasn’t positive, but she thought that maybe sometimes simple moments could bring a huge change in someone.

——-

**Reputation**

“Taylor, meet and greet in 20!” Her manager stuck her head in the room, alerting her to the fact that she’d have to pull herself out of her little nervous breakdown sooner rather than later.

 

“Okay,” she mumbled. “I just need, I need some air. I need to take a walk”

 

“You can’t leave the backstage area, are you out of your mind? There are a hundred thousand fans out there! I am not exaggerating. ONE. HUNDRED. THOUSAND.” He punctuated every word, making sure Taylor knew how serious he was.

 

“They’ve gotta have a place I can go,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“Taylor, this whole place is air. We’re outside for all intents and purposes. I don’t know what has you all riled up, but you need to pull it together. Fifteen minutes now.”

 

She nodded after him, at a loss for anything else to say. How to you explain to your manager that you’re breaking down because the married third of a once worldly famous pop band was going to be sitting in front of your stage? How do you explain that the last time he was near you, his hands were in your hair, his clothes on your hotel room floor? How do you explain that you’d gone and fallen in love with an impossible creature?

——-

**Speak Now**

The second time Taylor played Tulsa was almost two years to the day after the first time.

 

This time she’d thought ahead, having her people send enough backstage passes and VIP tickets to Hanson’s studio for them, their wives, and their many children. She’d heard back that they’d decided to leave the youngest ones at home and that she’d be greeting Taylor, his wife, and three of their children, along with his two brothers and their wives. If Taylor were honest with herself, she’d wanted to send one pass and one pass only, but she knew what that would look like, so she’d decided that if she wanted to lay eyes on Taylor Hanson again - and she very much did - she’d need to invite the whole family. 

 

So she did. She’d even arranged for them to be able to watch the show from side stage instead of in the crowd like everyone else. She wasn’t even sure why she was going out of her way for these people, outside of the fact that for two long years she’d had a hard time trying to force herself to stop thinking about blue eyes and strands of blonde hair falling into perfectly sculpted faces. Maybe she just wanted to lay eyes on him one more time, up close and personal. 

 

The fan meet and greet ran over, so Taylor wouldn’t be able to greet and mingle with her VIP’s until after the show that night, which was fine with her. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to withstand playing another show after being under Taylor Hanson’s boring stare. She wondered how he did that, anyway, made it look like he was looking into your soul when he gazed at you.

 

The show went off without a hitch, as it had been for the entire tour that far. Taylor couldn’t help but glance to her left every so often and see Taylor and the rest of his family standing there in the wings. He was always watching her, arms crossed over his chest, a look on his face she couldn’t quite place. If she thought hard enough about it, it seemed like it might be something like fascination. 

 

The show was almost over, she’d just finished up Dear John when she stepped a little closer to the microphone, wrapping her fingers around it.

 

“I wrote this song almost two years ago, on a night just like this one,” she spoke clearly, wanting to be sure her words were heard. “I think you might know this one. This is Enchanted.”

 

The crowd screamed and Taylor smiled out at them, beginning the song she had written on her tour bus just as it was rolling out of this very town. Throughout the song she stared straight out into the crowd, not allowing her gaze to shift to the left. Focus, she told herself. You need to focus. As the song was winding down she made a split second decision, singing the ending into the microphone.

 

_“This night is sparkling, don't you let it go_  
I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home  
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
This night is flawless, don't you let it go  
I'm wonder struck, dancing around all alone  
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
I was enchanted to meet you” 

 

She left the last two lines off, the crowd singing them loudly anyway, and she turned away from the microphone, her eyes flitting past him on their way by, noticing the small smile on his lips.

 

The rest of the show went by in a blur, Taylor running off the stage and to her dressing room at the end. She nearly dove at the clothing rack at the back of the room, pulling down the outfit she’d packed just for tonight. She changed quickly, flinging the door open and bumping right into her manager.

 

“Whoa,” he laughed. “Is the room on fire?”

 

“No!” She laughed, shaking her head. “I just really want to see-” she trailed off, laughing again. “We have people to greet!”

 

She skipped off down the hallway, rounding the corner into the room they’d set up for Taylor to mingle with her guests, her eyes landing on him instantly. He was crouched down in front of his daughter, helping her unwrap a cupcake, a smile like she’d never seen on his face. 

 

“Taylor,” he smiled when he looked up and saw her, straightening himself to his full height. “You were awesome tonight.”

 

When he looked at her she could almost tell that he was noticing she wasn’t that same 19 year old girl she had been the last time they’d been in a room together. There was something in his eye, something that told her he’d _noticed_ her, and it made her head spin.

 

“Thanks for coming!” She smiled, leaning down to greet his daughter. “Did you have fun?”

 

 

They spent a while on small talk, his wife thanking her profusely for the passes, his brothers and their wives feigning interest in her. She could tell they’d only come to be polite, but not him. He’d gone over his favorite parts of the show, how she looked like she belonged on a stage. “I could say the same to you,” she giggled. “But, you already know that.”

 

It wasn’t long, they only shared less than an hour in that room, but an hour was enough for her.

——-

**Reputation**

Meeting and greeting the fans was as fun and pleasant as it always was. She could always count on them to ease her mind. Hearing how she’d helped someone recover from a death in the family or a period of self doubt always solidified in her mind that she was in the right line of business. It took about an hour and a half to get through the line, hugs and autographs and posed photos giving Taylor the rush she always needed to tear up the stage afterwards.

 

“We’re pushing the invitees until after the show,” her manager walked up to her, clipboard in hand. “It’s just two industry people and your Hanson friend.”

 

“I still don’t understand, I didn’t invite him,” she shrugged, walking out of the room and towards the backstage area.

 

“He invited himself, was in town I guess,” her manager shrugged. “Alright, on in ten. Do your breathing exercises or whatever it is you do,” he grinned, knowing that Taylor could at times be slightly neurotic. “Let’s kill this one, last stop on this leg! You got this.”

 

He walked away, leaving Taylor standing there. She realized in that moment that even surrounded by hundreds of people at all times, there were moments where she felt completely alone.

——-

**Red**

Taylor just _really_ wanted people to stop asking her about Harry.

 

“Is it true? Is this song about him?” They’d ask her in the meet and greet, not realizing that her answer was, frankly, none of their business. 

 

She got it, she really did. She’d invited them into her life and mind with her lyrics, it was only natural that they’d want to know more. But, didn’t they realize that it hurt when they asked her to talk about it? Didn’t they understand that Harry and everything that came along with him was a secret just for her to keep?

 

She was sitting at the vanity table in the dressing room, her head in her hands. She just needed to decompress. She needed to angst that boy right out of her system so that she could jump on that stage in less than an hour and give it her best.

 

She looked up and into the mirror when there was a quick knock at the door of the dressing room. No one ever knocked, her manager, her mother, any number of other people on her team. They all just burst into doors and rooms like they belonged there. She guessed they did.

 

“Come in?” She felt the ending of her word float upwards, a question asking who are you and when did we suddenly learn to announce our arrivals?

 

The door pushed open and a head of blonde hair stuck itself in, a pair of shining blue eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

 

“They said I could come back and say hey,” that voice floating into her ears, so familiar it was like she’d been hearing it every day. “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

 

“No,” she smiled, pushing her chair back and moving across the room, pulling the door the rest of the way open. “It’s good to see you, I didn’t realize you all were coming tonight!”

 

“My daughter wouldn’t hear of you being in town and me not bringing her,” he laughed, brushing his hair out of his face.

 

“Well, where is she? Doesn’t she want to say hello?” Taylor grinned. She could picture Taylor’s daughter, surely bigger now, looking just like her daddy.

 

“She’s with her mom, I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, I just wanted to pop in and wish you luck,” he looked down, licking his lips before looking back up at her. “We should grab a drink sometime, talk about the songwriting process. I’m interested in the way your mind works, Miss. Swift.”

 

Taylor felt her face heat up at his words, images of them shoved into a little booth in the back corner of a dark bar flooding her mind. They’d be creating a song, right there on the spot. Him strumming a guitar, her plucking lyrics out of thin air. 

 

“I’d love that,” she breathed.

 

“Awesome,” he beamed. He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, a tiny fire appearing underneath her skin. “I should get back, good luck out there tonight.”

——-

**Reputation**

When she walked into the room, her eyes landed on him instantly. He was alone, standing in the corner of the room looking down at his phone. She walked up to him slowly, tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at her, his face instantly transforming into a smile.

 

“It’s been too long,” he said quietly, reaching over and brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, her eyes fluttering closed for a second.

 

“Yeah,” she breathed, her fingers brushing against his when she took a small step closer. “Way too long.”

——-

**1989**

There was something about the crowd in Kansas City that night that had Taylor completely electrified when she ran off the stage.

 

They’d sung every single word, louder than she had. They almost knew the material better than even she did, and the amount of passion flowing out of each and every single one of them was contagious and thrilling. 

 

She’d just finished changing and taking off some of the too much makeup she had caked on her face when her manager stuck his head in the door.

 

“You have a visitor,” he grinned, swinging the door open the rest of the way and revealing Taylor Hanson standing there, a leather jacket draped over his shoulder. 

 

“Hey,” he smiled, stepping tentatively into the room.

 

“Taylor,” she smiled, walking over to him, grabbing her shoes off the couch on her way.

 

“Taylor,” he repeated, winking. “Great show, as always.”

 

“Are you here alone?”

 

“Yeah, I was in town, carved myself some time out last minute. When I saw you weren’t coming to Tulsa I thought I was going to have to miss my very first Taylor Swift tour.”

 

They both laughed quietly, each of them looking the other in the eye. _I’m not a little girl anymore,_ she thought. _Do you feel it too? The way my hands want so badly to reach for your face?_

 

“I know it was almost two years ago, but I thought maybe we could make good on that getting a drink thing tonight?” He tilted his head, pulling his jacket of his shoulder. “If they’ll let you out, I mean.”

 

“I’m an adult,” she lifted her chin, a grin playing on her lips. “I can do what I want.”

 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “You are.”

 

—

 

They’d tried to get a drink in the hotel bar. Everything was fine, Taylor sipping the cocktail he’d insisted on buying her, his own sweaty beer bottle clutched in his hand, but he’d seem them before she did, looking over at her with an eyebrow raised and a grin on his lips.

 

“Your fan club is here,” he leaned in and spoke quietly. “If we don’t move fast, they’ll spot us.”

 

_Would that be so bad?_ She thought before laughing and shaking her head. She stood up, taking her cocktail with her and holding her hand out, “come on, let’s outrun them.”

 

They moved quickly through the bar, out into the lobby. They sprinted, hand in hand to the bank of elevators, Taylor stabbing at the up button. The doors opened and they moved into the elevator, their hands falling apart. 

 

“How do you feel about writing a song?” She looked over at him as they waited for the elevator to reach her floor.

 

“With the master of songwriting?” He smiled. “I’d love nothing more.”

 

—

 

Taylor’s plushy hotel room bed was covered in scraps of paper, words hastily scribbled down in two different hands. They’d been singing and writing for hours, Taylor’s throat scratchy from the overuse. She’d tossed her guitar lightly onto the floor, plopping down on her back, her arms sprawled out.

 

“We should collaborate, you know, officially, sometime,” he’d said, laughing at the dramatic fashion in which she’d tossed herself down.

 

“Are you _serious_?” She squealed. “I would _die_.”

 

“I dare say that you are a much better lyricist than me,” he laughed, causing Taylor to sit straight back up, her face landing directly in front of his, so close their noses were almost touching. She’d sat up to protest, tell him she couldn’t be half as good as him even on her best day, but the sight of his blue eyes, so close to hers, almost blurring into one, knocked the words right out of her. She stared at him, her hand slowly rising, fingertips landing lightly on his cheek. 

 

“All this silence and patience, pining and anticipation. My hands are shaking from holding back from you,” she sang in a whisper, the words just materializing in her mind.

 

“Did you just think that up?” He asked quietly. She shook her head slowly, her hand moving from his cheek into his hair. She’d wait. She’d wait for him to move in, close the gap between them. He’d do it, if she just kept looking into his eyes like this, she knew he’d do it.

 

“You’re good with words,” he whispered. 

 

“I’m good with other things too,” she said, instantly regretting it. She felt her cheeks heat up, her eyes falling shut. She heard him chuckle and she wanted to die, and then she felt his palm on her cheek, his thumb brushing a light path over her skin, and then his mouth was on hers.

——-

****

Reputation

“How’ve you been?” He backed up a step, looking down at his feet before looking back up at her.

 

“Good, you?” She tilted her head. It was awkward and heavy and she just wanted to lunge at him, wrap her arms around his neck, beg him to love her.

 

“Good, things are…things are weird, but good.”

 

“Weird?”

 

“You didn’t hear? I um, Natalie and I, we…it’s over,” he shrugged.

 

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Are you supposed to congratulate someone when they tell you their marriage has ended? Say you’re sorry for their loss? Taylor wasn’t sure, she figured the best thing to say was nothing at all, so she moved in and slid her hands around his waist, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, his lips brushing against the side of her face. She could feel the air in the room changing, the tension between them palpable and thick. He pulled back, looked her in the eye and opened his mouth to say something when her manager walked into the room.

 

“Sorry to break up this happy reunion of friends, but Taylor -” he laughed “Swift, Taylor Swift, we have to roll.”

 

“What, I-” she backed up from Taylor, looking at her manager and shaking her head.

 

“Sorry, kid. Things to do, people to see. We’ve packed all the stuff, time to hit the bus.” He walked out of the room, and she knew if she didn’t follow quickly behind him he’d just come back, probably annoyed this time. She turned back to Taylor and frowned, looking for something - anything - to say.

 

“Go,” he smiled, closing the space between them again. He grabbed her hips, pulling her softly into him. “You have a job to do.”

 

“Will I see you again?” She said quietly. “Soon?”

 

This every two years thing wasn’t going to work for anymore. Quick moments hidden behind closed doors, all of them leading up to something - what, she didn’t know - weren’t enough. 

 

He leaned in and kissed her, slowly and gently, and then backed up, giving her hips a squeeze before letting his hands drop, “I hope so. Go do your thing, superstar.”

——-

Taylor liked January. January felt like a new beginning every single year.

 

She’d finally gotten a break from all of the meetings and writing sessions to set her mind right, recover from the whirlwind year she’d had. Last minute, on a whim she’d bought a plane ticket to Fort Worth, Texas. She’d landed less than two hours ago and now she found herself in this tiny room, pacing back and forth, waiting. 

 

The people at Bass Performance Hall seemed slightly confused when she’d called earlier in the day, informing them that she’d be attending Hanson’s show that night and could they possibly help her arrange to surprise her friend, Taylor Hanson? But, they’d done it, settling her in this tiny room, telling her they’d send him in once the band was done rehearsing. 

 

That had been almost an hour ago. Taylor’s legs were starting to hurt from sitting and then standing, pacing and then sitting again. She was starting to question her sanity, wondering why she had done this, why was she there? What exactly was it that she was expecting from this? 

 

She didn’t have a single answer for herself. 

 

She’d picked up her purse, deciding to just leave, walk out the doors and pretend she’d never come here, but when she reached for the door knob, it turned before she got ahold of it, the door pushing open, her eyes meeting those same blue ones she’d met several times over the years. It was almost ten years later. She wasn’t that little girl anymore, but she’d be damned if those eyes didn’t still make her a little weak at the knees. 

 

“Taylor?” He smiled, shaking his head and moving into the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

“Taylor,” she laughed nervously, brushing her hair back. 

 

“What are you doing here?” He stepped forward and she thought he was going to hug her, but he just put a hand on her shoulder, his fingers like brands through her sweater. 

 

“I came to you this time,” she shrugged, stepping forward herself. There was almost no space in between them anymore, but Taylor was itching to close even that.

 

“You did,” his eyes were sparkling and her heart was thumping, and she was sure that if he didn’t just kiss her, put his hands in her hair, do something, _anything_ to relieve the tension in the room, she might just explode.

 

And then, he did.


End file.
